


Few Things More Powerful

by pirateygoodness



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-25
Updated: 2010-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:51:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9251189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateygoodness/pseuds/pirateygoodness
Summary: It happens exactly once, and they never speak of it again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from Livejournal.

It happens exactly once, and they never speak of it again. 

 

Richard and Zedd leave them in the morning, on foot. For once, they seem full of regret for taking time away from their mission, eager to find the Stone of Tears. Cara has never understood their ability to be singularly devoted to a task only some of the time. 

"I'm sorry, Kahlan," Richard says, embracing Kahlan like a lover, pressing his nose to her hair as though they will be apart for years, rather than days. Cara can hardly look - the public display of feelings they both know to be present seems unnecessary, almost crass. 

Kahlan whispers something against Richard's neck, and Zedd smiles as though he is proud of them. 

The silence makes the back of Cara's neck itch, and something about the way that Kahlan and Richard are looking at each other makes her want to turn away. Instead, she speaks. "I still don't see why we can't go with you."

"The Amulet of Cainwynn can only be found in Stratholme, and it's essential if we want to use the compass properly." Zedd steps forward, as though ready to place a fatherly hand on Cara's shoulder. She moves away. 

"It's less than a day's walk from our campsite," Cara says.

"The elders of Stratholme come from a long line of leaders sworn to uphold the rules of the area. Around these parts, they don't take very kindly to -" Zedd pauses, casting a significant look at Kahlan. The people of Stratholme are notoriously afraid of women, and especially women with magic. 

Cara thinks about what the people of Stratholme would have said about Cara and her sisters, and feels a familiar stab of longing. Mord'Sith would not hide from these elders, like cowards. 

She rolls her eyes, deferring to the wizard, refusing to allow her resentment to show too clearly on her face. In truth, she has no great desire to meet the Chief Elder of Stratholme, nor to acquire the Amulet of Cainwynn. But it has been three months since her last hot bath, and longer still since she last enjoyed the company of a stranger at a tavern - the sort of stranger who would not ask her to be kind, or discuss her feelings the following morning. 

The prospect of spending the night in a town, with a roof over her head, is far more tempting than she would like to admit. 

"Two days," Richard says, as he shoulders his pack, casting a final crooked smile at Kahlan. "We'll be back before you know it."

And then Richard and Zedd are gone, and Cara and Kahlan are alone, with nothing but the horses and their thoughts and each other. 

 

It happens exactly once, but the important thing is, it happens. 

 

That night, the rain begins. 

Cara has never been fond of bad weather, but there was always something to be said for the power of storms, the strength in thunder and lightning, when she and her sisters were warm and dry inside their temple. Here, in the woods, with water soaking through her pack and trickling, skin-warmed, under her leather and down her back, between her breasts, Cara sees none of the beauty in nature. She is wet, and she is cold, and she does not wish to endure it any longer than she must. 

Kahlan turns to her. Her hair is slick, curled against her skin, and her dress is soaked through. "We should find shelter," she half-shouts over the sound of the wind. 

Cara clamps her teeth down on the inside of her cheek, trying to hold back from saying something that Kahlan will make her regret. She nods, instead. 

"I think we passed a cave," Kahlan says, as she shoulders her pack. "Back towards the main road." 

Cara nods again, as she moves to the horses. Tactically, it is a terrible choice. Caves mean danger, more often than they mean shelter, as the sorts of beasts and bandits that like to live in caves rarely take kindly to company. But tactics will not keep Cara dry as the night wears on, so she lets her palm find the hilt of her Agiel, and readies for a fight. 

The cave - if they find it - will have to do. 

 

The cave is empty, and mostly clean, and more than large enough to accommodate the two of them overnight. Cara tends to the horses, as Kahlan makes the fire. She busies herself finding the right stand of trees - somewhere to keep the animals dry - and hauling saddles and blankets out of the wet, setting them just inside the mouth of the cave. 

These are not their horses, any more than the other mounts they've liberated from D'Haran soldiers or roadside bandits have been _theirs_. But they are good animals, and they deserve proper care, and Cara has always been skilled at putting aside her own discomfort when there is work to be done.

It's not until Cara returns, that she begins to feel it. 

As she leans against the wall of the cave, next to the horses' tack, she finds herself watching Kahlan stoke the fire. She finds herself paying more attention to things, like the way Kahlan's hair curls as it dries, the way her wet dress clings to her heavily. She finds herself thinking about all of the ways in which Kahlan is a very, very attractive woman. 

"What?" Kahlan says, after a moment, and Cara finds herself without an answer. 

She replies, _nothing_ , but it sounds like a lie. 

"What?" Kahlan says, glancing down at herself. One hand twitches, as though she is tempted to bring it to her hair.

"Nothing," Cara says once more, jutting out her hips. "You're wet, is all." 

"Yeah, well." She glances down again, eyelashes sticking together in a way that makes her features even more striking. "You're wet, too."

Kahlan turns away, moving from the fire to her pack, and if Cara didn't know better, she might assume that Kahlan's composure had somehow been shaken.

Cara moves towards the fire, and wishes - not for the first time - that Kahlan was less attached to her modesty. Cara can feel the water pressed between her skin and her leather, and she wants nothing more than to undress. She settles for taking off her boots, setting them next to the fire to dry. 

As she does, Cara notices that Kahlan is watching her, with interest. She does not understand the reason for it, but the knowledge that Kahlan is _watching_ makes Cara suddenly aware of her own body. Her heart begins to beat faster, her limbs feel more liquid, and Cara knows these as the first signs of her own arousal. It is unusual, given the circumstances, but not novel.

Kahlan is, after all, a very attractive woman.

"Cara," Kahlan says. "Would you mind if I -" She's blushing, holding a mostly-dry shift in both hands. "My dress is wet."

The request sends feeling through Cara, the kind that starts low in her belly and spreads, warm and slow. As before, it is unexpected, but not unwelcome. "Of course. As long as I can-?"

She leaves the question hanging in the air, watching Kahlan, and the moment when she nods and turns away makes Cara shiver. "Alright."

Cara reaches up, tugging at the stays that begin at her neck, loosening them with practiced hands. A Mord'Sith's leather is not meant to be put on alone, removed alone, but it can be done. Cara sees little point in asking for help if it is not needed. 

She works her way down her back, her shoulders. When she slides the leather off, freeing breasts and arms and everything to her navel, the dry air hits her skin and it is more than a relief. She feels like _herself_ again. Cara allows herself a sigh of satisfaction.

It's only when she hears an answering sigh, from across the campfire, that Cara realizes she is being watched, once again. Still. "Yes?" she says, not unkindly.

Kahlan turns away. Her eyes are downcast, her cheeks pink, and Cara can see the rise and fall of her chest quicken. With any other woman, Cara would understand this, would _know_ , by that blush, the way the rest of her evening would unfold. 

With Kahlan, she is rarely sure of anything. 

Cara bends, fingers working down the laces at her hips, her knees. Behind her, Kahlan is moving.

"Here," Kahlan says, suddenly very close. Cara is nearly finished with her laces, ready to slide her leather past her hips and off, and Kahlan is there with a blanket and a stern look on her face. Cara cannot decide if her expression is dark with anger, or with the effort of self-control. "You must be cold." 

It is not a question. 

Cara kicks away her boots and slides out of the last of her clothes, naked and almost dry without her leather. It is such a relief that the smile she gives Kahlan, as she wraps the blanket around her shoulders, is very nearly genuine. 

Kahlan smiles back, still close, and Cara is struck, once again, by the sight of her. She's wearing her shift, corset and Confessor's dress lying next to the fire, and on any other woman it would make her seem smaller, less womanly and more like a girl. Kahlan wears it proudly, standing tall in her bare feet, and it makes her seem like the warrior she truly is. Her hair is half-dry, a mess of curls that fall around her shoulders, down her back and between her breasts. Cara finds herself drawn to Kahlan, compelled to move even closer, stepping across dirt until her own bare toes are touching Kahlan's. 

Kahlan leans forward. There is a look in her eyes that Cara has never seen before - one that almost seems to echo the way that Cara is feeling. Kahlan's eyes are dark, almost dazed, as she leans in and reaches up to touch the ends of Cara's hair. Cara feels it again, that bloom of arousal starting low in her belly, humming across her skin. 

There is a vague part of Cara that finds this worrisome, that feels wrong. But her heart is racing in her chest, blood hot in her veins like it runs before battle, before _satisfaction_ , and Kahlan's mouth is so close that Cara can feel her breath, warm against her nose and lips. Kahlan tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and Cara can feel her body respond. This is familiar in a way that she has missed. 

When their mouths come together, it is tentative for a moment, and no longer. It quickly becomes frantic, needy, all hot breath and slick tongue and _exactly_ what Cara wants. She finds herself reaching for Kahlan, pressing her palms to the worn linen at her back and pulling her closer, to kiss her more deeply. Kahlan's hands are threaded in her hair, tugging in a way that Cara feels right between her thighs, exactly the right amount of pain to feel like pleasure. She bites down against Kahlan's lips, harder than she means, carried away. She tastes blood, and Kahlan moans into her mouth, arching every part of her against Cara. 

It is not right. It is not how Kahlan would allow herself to be kissed. 

Cara pulls away, gasping, and it's one of the hardest things she has ever done. Kahlan is watching her, expression an odd combination of surprise and naked arousal, and it's only then that Cara begins to sense that something about this feels wrong. 

In all the time that Cara has known her, Kahlan has never once allowed herself to be overcome with lust. 

"Kahlan," she says, voice low and harsh with arousal. "Something is happening."

Kahlan nods, breathless. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are distant as she says, "This is some sort of magic. Powerful -" She shifts on her feet, and the movement makes her pause, gasping, in a way that Cara understands because she can feel it throbbing between her own thighs, equally strong. "Powerful magic. We need Zedd."

Cara fists her hands and takes a step back. She wants nothing more than to press her mouth to Kahlan's jaw, her neck, the swell of her breasts until she cries out, despite the danger in it. Instead, she rolls her eyes. "So we can explain that we were minding our own business in the woods, when we stumbled into some sort of spell that means we can't keep our hands off each other?" Kahlan watches her, mildly scandalized despite her arousal. Cara presses the point. "Did you want to tell him, or shall I?"

She considers, briefly, and takes a step closer. Cara notices, but does not move away. "Fine," Kahlan says, voice heavy. "Fine." Her hand slides under the blanket Cara is wearing, and finds the curve of her spine. She begins tracing it down, dragging her nails against the bare skin of her back. "But we need to think of something."

Cara looks at Kahlan, pointedly, and her hand stills. "You seem to have some ideas, already."

"Fine," Kahlan says again. "Sorry." She does not move. 

Cara is acutely aware of her own needs, the things that she wishes to do. She is also aware that the things she wants are not the things that a good person should do. Ordinarily, this is a time when she would look to Kahlan, and allow herself to be guided. But Kahlan appears lost, breath hot on Cara's throat, clearly warring with desire in herself. Cara does not know how to proceed. 

"Kahlan," she says, gently, plucking at the fabric of her shift. 

"Maybe -" Kahlan says, and she takes a step closer. Her palm is warm against the curve of Cara's behind. "Maybe it's not a bad idea."

This can only be the most powerful kind of magic. 

"Are you being serious?" Cara says, asking despite herself. She wants nothing more than to kiss Kahlan again, to _satisfy_ herself, and the ache that builds between her thighs the longer they speak, touching but not _touching_. 

Kahlan nods. "Maybe if we - maybe the spell just wants us to -" She looks away, color high in her cheeks, clearly flustered. She cannot say the word, even now, with Cara naked under her hands, and the knowledge of that makes Cara want this even more. 

"Have sex?" Cara offers.

Kahlan looks at her, again, gratitude and a slight reproach in her eyes. "Be _intimate_ ," she says, cheeks dark. "Maybe if we do, that will - fix this."

"Maybe," Cara says, and her hands are already wandering along Kahlan's dress, finding her hip and her shoulder. "Are you sure?"

Kahlan nods, fingers tightening against Cara's behind, an invitation. Cara can hear herself growl as she pulls Kahlan closer, kisses her with all of her teeth. 

Kahlan leans forward, using her height, and Cara finds herself stumbling backwards as she moves her mouth across Kahlan's lips, her jaw. Kahlan is all hands, making sounds that Cara would never have thought possible from the Mother Confessor as she touches Cara _everywhere_ , mapping out her body with her fingertips, rough and hungry. 

As Cara feels her back hit stone, Kahlan's hand finds the slickness between her thighs, and she presses up with her palm. Cara bites down on her shoulder, hard enough to bruise, and Kahlan presses harder. "Can I?" Kahlan all but growls, concerned even through the haze of magic and sex.

"Yes," Cara says, pulling her closer, grinding her hips down against Kahlan's hand until her eyes go wide. " _Of course_." 

Kahlan rubs her hand in circles, tentative. Cara strokes her hair, her waist, trying to give comfort despite the fact that her mind is filled with the thought of how badly she wants her own release. "Please," she whispers, barely intelligible. 

Kahlan hears her. 

She slides her fingers home, two inside Cara, strong and curved at just the right angle. Cara whimpers, mouth pressed to Kahlan's shoulder, slack-jawed. She cannot bite, cannot do anything but think about Kahlan's hand between her thighs, the way her fingers are sliding in and out, _almost_ what she needs. She bucks her hips, trying to match Kahlan's rhythm. 

Distantly, she hears a needy sound, breathless and almost a whine. It is her own voice, and if she was not here, if she did not _need_ this in a way that can only be explained by magic, she would be embarrassed. 

But Kahlan understands. Kahlan moves faster, leans forward. Her mouth is pressed to Cara's ear, and Cara can hear the noises she makes with every thrust, harsh and low, almost gasps. 

Kahlan is enjoying this.

Cara can feel herself on the edge, ready to finish, and she pulls Kahlan closer. Kahlan's hand is moving between her thighs, fingers thrusting fast and hard as they curl against the place, high inside Cara, where she needs them to be. She feels desperate, almost undone, and when she finally tumbles over the edge, muscles gripping Kahlan's hand as her hips buck, it feels as though she's been anticipating this release for years. 

Kahlan stills, fingers inside Cara, waiting until she stops shuddering, until she can speak again. 

Cara huffs, breathless, and strokes a clumsy hand down Kahlan's spine. "Yes," she says, lifting her head from Kahlan's shoulder to watch her, look into her eyes. "Thank you." 

Kahlan's smile is shy as she slides her fingers out of Cara, making her shudder with sensations that are very nearly a second release. Her chest is heaving, the swell of her breasts apparent at the neckline of her shift, even with her corset drying by the fire. She lifts slick fingers to Cara's face, as though about to press her palm to Cara's cheek, like a lover. 

Cara catches her wrist, smelling sex. Kahlan is watching her, eyes nearly black. 

Cara is careful to keep her gaze, as she takes Kahlan's fingers into her mouth and licks them clean. She sucks, gently, pressing down with her teeth. Kahlan's eyes slide shut, as though the sensation is too much for her. It makes Cara feel powerful, aroused, eager to use her mouth against Kahlan's body until she begs for release. 

Instead, Cara releases Kahlan's fingers, licking her lips. Her head is clearer, now that the ache between her thighs has seen relief, but only just. Enough for Cara to know that touching Kahlan is dangerous, That Kahlan losing control of herself - of her magic - will leave Cara dying in agony. Vaguely, she recalls that this is important. 

"What?" Kahlan whimpers, voice ragged. "Why did you _stop_ , I -"

"Magic," Cara says. "Your magic. Can you - could you tell me to stop?"

Kahlan's face crumbles. "No."

There is a long silence, as Cara thinks and Kahlan tries to stop herself from reaching for her. "If only -" Kahlan's voice is low, frustrated in a way that makes Cara _want_ her. "If only there was a way I could keep myself from touching you." 

It's something in her voice that gives Cara the answer, and Cara is smiling when she says, "Hold on." 

Cara reaches for her pack, finds the length of rope she knows is there. On any other occasion, the expression on Kahlan's face would make her laugh, but the throb between Cara's thighs is making everything about this feel deadly serious. "Cara," Kahlan says, like she's just suggested something appalling. "What are you _doing_?"

As Cara stands, her thighs brush together, and she bites her lip against the feeling. Kahlan's eyes go darker still, as she notices. "Your power," Cara says, trying to find the thread of her logic, trying to think about the problem at hand and not the way she wants to rub up against Kahlan like a cat in heat. "It's in your hands?"

Kahlan thinks for a moment. Cara can see her trying to fight her way through the same fog of arousal, but more. It is some comfort. 

If she dies by confession, she thinks it will be less of one. 

"Yes," Kahlan says after a long while. "I - yes."

"If you can't put your hands on me, you can't confess me." 

Kahlan is quiet, and Cara hopes that she is considering the truth in her assumption, and not her own arousal. It is a long time before Kahlan nods, but she seems sure, and that is a greater comfort. Cara raises her eyebrow, holds the rope like another question. 

Kahlan presents her hands, wrists together, eyes dark with arousal and wide with trust, and the sight of her nearly brings Cara over the edge once more. She barely has the presence of mind to shake her head. "Turn around."

Kahlan does, bringing her hands together behind her back, and the trust in her eyes as she turns is something that Cara wants to savor. She wraps her hand around Kahlan's wrists, both of them, looping the rope around itself and Kahlan's arms with practiced ease. The knots are second-nature to her, one of the earliest things she learned in her training, and she allows her mind to wander. As she tugs the end of the rope, pulling away the slack, she's thinking about the line of Kahlan's throat and the way it would look, dotted with marks from her teeth - it is the reason she doesn't notice when she tugs harder than she needs to, rubbing rope against skin. 

Kahlan hisses, and the sound is irresistible.

Cara leans close, her chin on Kahlan's shoulder and her breath hot against Kahlan's ear. She's standing on her toes, pressing Kahlan's hands to her bare stomach, and the tone she uses is calculated, just the right balance of concern and arousal as she asks, "Are you alright?"

Kahlan shivers with her whole body, and her voice is ragged with arousal, not pain, as she whimpers, "Yes."

Cara reaches forward, palming Kahlan's belly. Even through her shift, she feels Kahlan's muscles jump, tightening at her touch, growing tenser as she slides her hand lower, towards Kahlan's center. When Cara's fingertips press the linen of Kahlan's dress to the curls between her legs, Kahlan arches forward, just a little. Cara can feel the effort in her spine, the way that she's trying to control herself and keep Cara from knowing just how badly she wants this. 

" _Cara_ ," Kahlan whispers.

Cara can feel her shaking. 

"Turn around," Cara says.

It's Cara's turn, now, to press Kahlan against the stone of the cave, to pull Kahlan undone. Her palm finds Kahlan's center, pressing up, and Kahlan's knees nearly buckle. She slides down the wall, eyes wide, and it's only as Cara catches her with both arms that they both realize what it _means_ , to have tied Kahlan's hands. 

Cara rests one hand on Kahlan's waist, the other behind her back, and takes her weight. "Do you trust me?" she asks. 

Kahlan nods. 

"Lean back," she says, although it hardly needs saying. Kahlan rests her weight in Cara's hands, allows Cara to ease her down until she's resting on the ground, on her back, skirt hitched to her thighs. 

"Are you alright?" Cara asks, and to her surprise, she realizes that she means it. She very much wants for Kahlan to be alright.

Kahlan nods, and Cara feels reassured, comforted in a way that she does not wish to think about. 

She is aware of Kahlan's sense of need, of the way she's pressing her thighs together, arching her back and all but begging for her release, already close. But Cara is also aware of the way Kahlan looks, lips kiss-swollen and chest flushed and her hair fanned out around her head. The Mother Confessor is underneath her, utterly debauched, and Cara cannot help but take a moment to enjoy that fact. 

"Cara," Kahlan says, voice insistent, and her blush deepens. 

Cara's moment ends. 

She slides Kahlan's shift along her thighs, letting it bunch at the crease of her hips, and she hardly pauses to lick her lips before dipping her head down, tasting the heavy slickness of Kahlan's arousal. 

" _Oh_." 

Kahlan's voice is loud, rough, surprise and relief and pleasure happening all at once. Cara cannot help but smile, as she presses her tongue to Kahlan's most sensitive spot, flicking until Kahlan's hips are rocking against Cara's face, seeking _more_. Cara cannot see, but she can _feel_ the way that Kahlan is squirming, twisting her shoulders on instinct - as though she wishes to tug at Cara's hair, press Cara's mouth closer to the place where she so clearly needs it. 

Cara sucks, gently, and Kahlan finishes with no sound at all, shuddering and arching up, again and again.

When Cara lifts her head and sits up, she has not been confessed, and her mouth is slick with Kahlan's arousal. Kahlan lifts her head, the slow, dazed expression fading from her eyes as she returns to herself, calm. She looks at Cara, pleading, and Cara leans in for a kiss, lazy and slow and full of idle, biting teeth. The smell of sex is everywhere, filling Cara's senses, and as she presses the length of her body against Kahlan's, she feels the throb between her thighs begin to crescendo once more. 

Kahlan kisses her mouth clean, keeps kissing, but Cara can tell that she's struggling with her ropes. A month ago, a year ago, she would have savored that, enjoyed the sense of her own power, but with Kahlan it does not feel right. She pulls away. "What is it?"

Kahlan looks away. "My hands, I -" Her cheeks color, and she laughs, as though ashamed. "I want to touch you."

"Alright," Cara says. 

She shifts, straddling Kahlan's hips, the bare heat of her center brushing against Kahlan's dress. She cannot help but bite her lip, in a way that Kahlan notices, as she leans down and reaches around to the knots at Kahlan's wrists. They are knots she can untie without looking, knots that any young Mord'Sith could free herself from, half-asleep, but that is not something that Kahlan needs to know. 

Cara tugs the rope away, setting it aside. Kahlan brings her arms in front of her once more, and there are marks across her wrists, red and painful and Cara's fault. She feels guilt, sudden and confusing, and it is what makes her bring her palms to Kahlan's wrists, rubbing the marks away. Kahlan watches her, eyes dark with something that Cara does not want to name.

"Here," Kahlan says, when Cara has finished, reaching up to cup her palm at the back of Cara's head. 

She tugs down, and Cara follows, allowing herself to be kissed once more. Kahlan's mouth is gentle, but her hands roam, sliding across Cara's skin as though glad to be free. One palm stays at Cara's head, pressing her mouth down, but the other is sliding along Cara's spine, down to her hips, her belly. It's just kissing, lazy and without intent, but Cara can feel her body respond to Kahlan's touch. 

She finds herself breathless against Kahlan's mouth almost before she realizes that she is aching, once again, for release. She rocks her hips, finding friction, and her kisses begin to grow rougher. 

Kahlan's hand slides from Cara's belly to her core, fingertips fitting themselves where Cara most needs them. Cara bucks her hips down on instinct, so close to release that she cries out against Kahlan's mouth. Kahlan swallows it, gentle and laughing, and Cara does not think to be anything but grateful. She is so close, so _eager_ for release, and Kahlan is underneath her, warm and soft and seemingly just as eager to bring Cara to her climax. 

It is almost an embarrassment, the way Cara finishes - without preamble, hard and fast in a rush against Kahlan's hand. But then, this is sex, and there is nothing in that to embarrass her. 

As she comes down, sticky and breathless against Kahlan's body, she feels a pulse, the kind that makes her skin crawl. The kind that can only mean _magic_. Cara cannot tell if it is Kahlan's magic, or the magic of the cave, but she feels different. Slowly, she realizes that her head is clear, that the ache between her legs is gone. 

Kahlan coughs, and when Cara looks down at her, she knows that Kahlan feels it, too - whatever power had a hold on them before, it is gone. 

"Oh," Kahlan says, turning her head away, blushing furiously. 

It is only then that Cara becomes aware of her own nakedness, that she realizes it might be cause for modesty or shame. She rises at once, acutely aware of the way Kahlan is looking at her, as though perhaps she regrets wanting this. 

Cara does not know when Kahlan's regrets became her concern, but she longs to go back to the time when they were not. 

Kahlan sits, and Cara helps her stand. She looks utterly ravished - the back of her shift is messy, her hair mussed, and the smell of sex is heavy in the air around them both. There is a mark on Kahlan's shoulder, in the shape of eight perfect teeth. When Cara glances down, she sees that there is a matching one on the swell of her breast. 

Cara does not know what to do. She has never been taught the right way to deal with women like Kahlan. It is, at least, a comfort to see that Kahlan is dressed, arms crossed and shift tugged back into place, and standing alone as though she does not know what to do, either. 

It takes a moment for Cara to find the blanket, discarded on the cave floor and only a little dusty. She covers herself, and sits by the fire. Staring into the flames, it is easier to ignore the way that Kahlan is watching her, unmoving and thoughtful. 

A great deal of time passes that way, and Cara has almost begun to accept that this is the way things will have to be, when she hears movement from Kahlan's side of the cave. Kahlan sits at the fire, next to Cara, thigh pressed against Cara's hip. It is a gesture, a reassurance that she cannot find the words for, and Cara appreciates it. 

It is a long time, after that, before the tension in Cara's spine eases. Kahlan does not leave. 

Instead, she sighs, and places a hand on Cara's knee - a little higher than is friendly. "I guess we should get some sleep," she says, and there is hope in her voice. 

Cara cannot help but smile, turning to her. She is mostly grateful, but she cannot stop herself from appreciating the way that Kahlan has, at the very least, acknowledged this. That the warm, sleepy haze of satisfaction and the pleasant, well-sexed feeling between her legs, does not belong only to Cara. Kahlan looks down, embarrassed, but she huffs out a laugh of her own. It is a sort of kinship, almost sisterhood, and Cara allows herself to enjoy it. 

Kahlan shivers, inching closer to the fire, and it is then that Cara realizes that she is wearing Kahlan's blanket. "Are you cold?"

Kahlan nods, and the expression on her face is vulnerable, almost young. Cara realizes that there is a choice, here, and it belongs to her. Her leather is not dry, but it is probably dry enough, and she could return the blanket to Kahlan, easily. But she does not think that she has to, and Kahlan's wide eyes seem to hint that perhaps Kahlan wishes she would not. 

Cara sighs. "Lie down."

There is an odd feeling in Cara's chest, behind her ribs. Kahlan's smile, grateful and shy as she settles on the ground, makes Cara feel both better and worse. 

She presses herself to Kahlan's back, allowing Kahlan to pull half of the blanket over herself, settle into it. When Kahlan finds Cara's arm, and pulls that over the curve of her waist, Cara does not resist. 

Kahlan is taller, but Cara's hand fits comfortably in the valley between her breasts, her mouth feels like it belongs pressed to the space between her shoulder and her neck. Cara finds herself enjoying it, as Kahlan's breathing begins to settle, slowing into the rhythm of sleep. She does not think about what that might mean. 

They will not speak about this in the morning, or ever. 

When Zedd and Richard come to find them, late in the evening, flush with their own success and eager to begin the search for the Stone of Tears once more, Cara and Kahlan will not admit to this.

The important thing is not that they talk about it. The important thing is that it happens.


End file.
